


i sole e l'altre stelle

by RedFive



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dark Will, Fluff and Smut, Freak on the Streets Dante in the Sheets, M/M, Non-Consensual Poetry, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, They Flip!, Will Graham is 100 percent done with this nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 12:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11921061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFive/pseuds/RedFive
Summary: After a night at the Opera, Hannibal destroys the sanctity of the bedroom by breaking his husband's #1 rule and Will is having none of it.





	i sole e l'altre stelle

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by [LLewcie!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llewcie) Thank you, m'dear! xoxo

Hannibal rolled his hips in harmony to Will’s sharp staccato thrusts. No matter how many times they played this duet together, Hannibal remained as starry-eyed and disbelieving as the first time Will had lead him by the hand and pushed him down onto the mattress. It didn't seem real and yet too real by the same turn.

He felt so full and whole with Will pressed deep inside him. How he had ever lived contentedly without?  _I should have taken him the minute his stitches were out,_ he thought, but when Will smirked and adjusted his hips to better reach his favorite spot, Hannibal took the thought back. It was better this way, being at Will’s mercy (or lack thereof.)

As the moonlight streamed into their bedroom through the open French doors, Hannibal felt more than just his climax rising within him. He bit his lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood and fidgeted beneath Will’s relentless pounding. No, he absolutely mustn't. He had promised to behave in payment for Will’s attendance at the opera tonight, promised on his family name, and as Will so often liked to remind him when negotiating these petty deals in exchange for the simple, civilized, courtesies Hannibal desired, Hannibal _always_ kept his promises.

But Hannibal had not counted on the clear night sky betraying him so profoundly. Moonlight fell across Will’s body like a sheet accentuating his lean muscles and delicate scars. Like Pygmalion’s creation in reverse, the soft light turned his pale skin marble-white transforming Will into a literal work of living art: his art.

Mistaking Hannibal’s squirming for encouragement, Will thrust even harder, and it was more than Hannibal could bear. “Ma gia volgena il mio disio e'l velle si come rota ch'igualmente e mossa,” Hannibal murmured in Italian while his eyes fought to stay open to take in the sight of Will for as long as he could.

Will grunted above him and reached behind Hannibal to brace himself against the headboard. Too late did Hannibal realize that it was not the headboard that Will was reaching for.

The pillow came down suddenly choking off the rest of poem. He felt Will pull out and his body weight settle across his thighs. Still the pillow was not lifted from Hannibal’s face.

“I thought I told you,” Will growled using both hands to smother his lover, “No. Dante. In the bedroom.”

 _How would you know,_ Hannibal tried to say but was effectively silenced by the thick layer of down feathers locked inside the pillow case. Still hoping to one day introduce Will to Florence, Hannibal had offered on **multiple** occasions to teach Will Italian. Each time he had been rebuffed much to his consternation. It was only by luck that Will had correctly guessed, which 14th century poet it had been. Contrary to popular belief, Hannibal did enjoy the works of other poets too. Dante just **happened** to be one of the more appropriate choices as it related to Will. That was all there was to it and nothing more.

Hannibal’s lungs were beginning to hurt. He tapped Will on the thigh signaling that he had made his point, but Will pressed his advantage just a few seconds longer. When he finally removed the pillow, Hannibal was flushed and gasping for breath. He sat up so he could more easily fill his lungs with much needed oxygen.

“I don't know why I put up with you. You ruin everything, Hannibal” Will said crossly.

“Come now,” Hannibal said wrapping Will in his arms. When Will dodged his kisses, Hannibal settled for an ear, which he licked and nibbled at until Will’s irritation softened enough to return his embrace. “Don’t be---,”

Will grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged at it sharply. “If you say “dramatic” I really will kill you.”

Disentangling Will’s hand from his hair required a hard bite delivered to the base of his neck. Next, Hannibal moved quickly to capture Will’s other hand before it could cause similar mischief. “Is this really how you want to spend our evening together? Fighting with me? It was a compliment, Will,” Hannibal said growing irritable himself.

“This is apparently how **you** want to spend the evening, **dear**.”

Hannibal nearly winced. If that particular endearment was in play, he really was walking a thin and dangerous line. Knives would be next, which was often okay, but tonight Hannibal desired romance. Gently but firmly, he rolled Will onto his back reversing their positions. He applied his mouth to Will’s nipple, and worked it over with his tongue and teeth enjoying the soft sighs Will fought to hold back. He switched to the other one until he thought Will might be ready to permit the continuation of their lovemaking then looked for the bottle of lube they had discarded earlier.

Hannibal did not make the mistake of giving control back to Will. He had learned this lesson the hard way (this was not their first argument over the appropriateness of the ancient poet during intercourse.) His hand slipped between Will’s legs rubbing suggestively at his hole. Will sighed with feigned derision and lifted his hips with honest eagerness to allow Hannibal access.

Hannibal opened Will up smoothly and efficiently, aware how close to climax they had both been before Hannibal derailed the evening with his little recitation. Neither man would last long.

Will seemed not to mind the change of plan at all. He shivered and moaned with desperate need as Hannibal added each new finger.

“Hannibal, now. I need you inside me **now** ,” he pleaded.

Hannibal pushed Will’s knees up and settled himself between his legs before thrusting into Will’s heat. He looked into his lover’s eyes with a question; they narrowed into a glare in response.   _Don’t be gentle_ they said, so Hannibal was not.

All too soon, Will was keening with delight as he came. Hannibal nearly followed him, but again the moon betrayed him. Will’s slick chest glittered in the moonlight, and his blue-grey eyes were made silver in its glow. Once more Hannibal was awed that this heavenly creature had accepted one such as him into his life. Will. His Will. His moonlit monster.

Hannibal bent his head to kiss his lover sweetly. Unsurprisingly Will was more teeth than tenderness.

“Once more,” Hannibal begged genuinely pained by his oath of silence.

Will sighed but acquiesced, knowing immediately what Hannibal meant. “Fine,” he snorted.

“L’amor che move: i sole e l'altre stelle,” Hannibal said.

“What does it mean,” Will asked through gritted teeth and clenched around Hannibal’s cock.

So close now…

“It means I love you,” Hannibal said and shuddered as his climax overtook him.

Will ran one hand gently through Hannibal’s hair until the aftershocks subsided. Hannibal could smell himself on Will’s fingertips. He nuzzled at Will’s palm and nipped and kissed at his wrist when it was presented to him.

“I love you with the love that moves the sun and stars,” Hannibal said as he lay down beside Will.

“You’re impossible,” Will yawned and inched closer to Hannibal’s waiting embrace.

“I am indeed,” Hannibal agreed.

Post-coitus, Will was often the first to drift off to sleep, which Hannibal never minded. He liked to watch Will slip into a peaceful slumber. Will’s body stilled and grew cold as he lost consciousness. In that moment, he really did look like a marble statue.

“Love brought us to one death,” Hannibal said quoting from the fifth canto of the _Inferno_. “In death we live, in life we love, and with love we grow in knowledge and understanding.”

Beyond the veil of sleep, Will could not hear Hannibal to reprimand him so Hannibal talked on until his voice grew hoarse and showered Will with praise, affection, and nonconsensual poetry.

Before falling asleep himself, he pulled the sheet over Will’s body ensuring that he would be warm.  “L’amor che move: i sole e l'altre stelle,” he repeated against his beloved’s brow and bid one final goodnight to his deadly Beatrice.

 

**BONUS CUT-SCENE:**

_This fucking prick,_ Will thought as he plowed Hannibal roughly. _I warned him._

One year into their marriage, Dante had become the ultimate boner killer in the Graham-Lecter household. Hannibal tried to disguise it in the original Italian, but the man was obsessed. And now that Will was learning Italian as a secret birthday present to Hannibal, there was no avoiding the dead poet.

Will reached behind Hannibal’s head, grabbed a pillow, and gave serious consideration to whether Hannibal should be allowed to live and see another birthday or not.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Here's the link to [Tumblr](http://redfivewritingby.tumblr.com/post/164670647662/i-sole-e-laltre-stelle-by-redfive) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/red5writingby/status/901842859795644416) should you feel inclined to boost. ❤️


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